


Turmoil takes a big dump

by shootertron



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Scat, robot poop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-24 05:55:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14349318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shootertron/pseuds/shootertron
Summary: Turmoil needs to go to the bathroom. For scat anon. This is a robot poop fic. You have been warned!





	Turmoil takes a big dump

Turmoil had gotten through another long month of command duty when a warning flashed across his HUD.

“Warning: Posterior Waste Tank Full!” it read in yellow letters.

He tried to ignore it - there were important duties for him to attend to first. Mechs to meet. Documents to read. For some time this worked, but then a violent churn of his insides had him hurrying to his quarters with a thunk thunk of his tread feet.

As circumstance would have it, the Energon available to Turmoil and his crew was of a low grade. In the wartime, the best stuff was in short supply, and they had to make due with what they could find. A mech of his size could go a long time without eliminating, but eventually, the leftover mineral slush had to be evacuated.

Reaching his entrance of his private quarters, Turmoil locked the door of his habsuite, and set his communicator to Do Not Disturb. He located the door to his wash unit and sat down on the massive black toilet adjacent to the bathtub.

Turmoil sighed as he held his legs apart on the massive bidet. The panel covering his posterior waste port slid away, and Turmoil heaved in relief as his back hole irised open and a gigantic lump of waste plopped out. He moaned - his aft hole was quite sensitive to things sliding against it and pushing it open. The lump plopped into the bottom of the toilet with great force, and Turmoil knew there was more of this _stuff_ inside of him.

He took his datapad out of his subspace and started reading some documents - a crew ledger, reports to his superiors, forms to sign off on. He was going to be here a while, so might as well work from the comfort of his own wash unit. Being on the toilet was not an entirely terrible process. The lights of his wash unit were dim and soft, designed to be soothing to a mech who needed some alone time. The seat of the toilet was ergonomically shaped to his posterior, for those long, long eliminations.

Giving another contraction of his posterior port, Turmoil felt another large chunk of the waste plop onto the bottom of the toilet bowl. His olfactory sensors detected a mineral smell coming off it. He continued to push, squeezing as much of it out as he could.

Finally, after what seemed to be a long time, Turmoil had emptied his tank to the best of his ability. He pulled the level on the toilet and flushed it away. He pressed another button, and nozzle came out of the toilet to spray a stream of solvent to clean his aft hole and waste chute of any residue. It tingled as it made its mark. Turmoil felt the stream of liquid drip off him. When Turmoil’s aft hole was thoroughly cleaned, he stood up and wiped off the excess liquid with a cleansing wipe, closed his panel and walked out of his habsuite, feeling much lighter.

**Author's Note:**

> I know he doesn't wash his hands. I suppose since he didn't have to use toilet paper, and Con ships aren't hospitable for bacteria, he didn't need to.


End file.
